


Of Gods And Men

by ATypicalNerd



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Homophobia, I have no idea, M/M, NB Pidge, Percy Jackson AU, Pidge has anxiety, Swearing, The PJ au no one asked for, Transphobia, except our main crew of course, i will add more tags as the series goes on, just assholes in general, pls be gentle, this is my first fanfic, where is this going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATypicalNerd/pseuds/ATypicalNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The PJ au no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Step You Take

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for my Spanish. Please correct me if you see something wrong. Comments and kudos are always welcome!

Lance knew that he was different. He was too tall, too skinny, and most noticeably, he had striking blue eyes. None of his siblings had blue eyes.

Basically, he knew he wasn't a full McClain.

Not that he had a problem with that. Lance knew from experience that family isn't necessarily bound by blood. The only thing that bothered him was that his mother wouldn't tell him who his father was.

____________________________________________________________________________

On the corner of 5th and Maple there was a house too small for the family living within. It was a simple design, one-story, white trim, sunny yellow walls with paint peeling off, and a small porch littered with playthings. The family within could be described the same way: well-worn, loved, and messy.

The kitchen was covered in flour, cooking materials, and preschool homework. A young but tired looking woman worked side by side with the oldest child of the McClain residence. It was a comfortable situation, no words spoken, but certainly not quiet as they bustled around to the tune of the stereo. 

“Mamá” a six-year old Lance pondered, “Why don't I look like mis hermanos?”

“That doesn't matter, corazón,” a younger Estrella McClain responded. “They're still your siblings.”

A small silence blossomed between the two, broken when Lance abruptly asked, “Am I adopted?”

Setting down the plate she was washing, Estrella approached Lance with an almost angry energy. Kneeling down to his height, she sighed.

“Escucha, Lance. We will, and always will be your family. But it is important for you to know.” She cupped his face in her hands as his chin began to tremble from unshed tears. She sighed again, collecting her thoughts. “There is no good way to say this. Charlie… He isn't su padre. Your father, he… He isn't around anymore.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Years had passed, and he still had no idea what she meant by that. But Lance wasn't worried about it. A teenager has much more to worry about than that.

“Should I do it?”

Pidge groaned, sipping their coffee. Their auburn hair was sticking in all directions, and their glasses were askew. As they had constantly reminded Lance, they were not a morning person. Especially not on a Monday.

“Dude, just do it,” Hunk interjected, gesturing wildly, peppering the other two with crumbs in the process. Lance wished there wasn't a Starbucks by their school. Then, maybe, he and Pidge  
wouldn't get pummeled by croissant crumbs every day.

Lance sighed, ruffling his hair in an anxious fashion. He looked behind their corner table towards the hot waitress. Damn, she was fine. It didn't help that today was particularly humid day, and she was wearing shorts, and her face was red and-

Lance cut himself off. Now was not the time to be distracted. He had a potentially life-chancing decision on his hands. 

“Jesus, grow some balls,” Pidge interrupted his thoughts rudely, “Either she's into you or she's not. Either way, you don't stand a chance.”

That was it. If this little twerp doubted him, he'd make them eat their words. “Shut up Pidgey. I'll have you know I’m the one who's into her.”

Hunk groaned loudly at the gross (beautiful) joke. The waitress, Nyma, noticed the conundrum and sauntered over.

“Anything I can do for you guys?” She asked casually, shifting her weight and hand to one hip, looking down almost tauntingly. Hunk mumbled something about more croissants, but Lamce butted in before he lost his nerve.

“Yeah, um, I noticed you were serving us coffee but you didn't have any. I don't suppose I could treat you later?” Lance gave her his best ‘smoldering’ look.

She blinked, purple eyes wide. Then she smiled, flipping her ponytail. “Sure, I'm down. Free coffee, and some quality time. I don't see why not”

Hunk let out a not-so-conspicuous gasp, while Pidge choked on their coffee. Lance turned beet red, and squeaked out a “Really?”

Nyma smirked, and rested her hands on the table, moving her chest into a tight position in an already tight shirt, and giving Lance oddly tight pants. “You know Grinders Cafe? I'll meet you there at 4. Your treat.”

She strutted away, leaving an incredulous Hunk and Pidge staring at an even more dumbstruck Lance.

“What the fuck,” Pidge said quietly, too shocked to yell like they usually did.

“You're just mad cause you got no game,” Lance said quickly, not wanting them to know how shaken he was.

“Yeah, but dUDE,” Hunk exclaimed, “How the hell did you manage that?!”

As Lance and Hunk fangirled over the exciting new events, Pidge watched Nyma. She was behind the counter, on her phone. Who was she calling? Her face was oddly serious, her skin pale and… Yellow?

Pidge shook their head. It was too early in the morning for this shit. They could hallucinate later, right now, they needed to get to class.

____________________________________________________________________________

The classroom of Ms. Reiner was especially miserable today. The individual desks were sticky with sweat, the fans were doing nothing, and the class just couldn't focus on their tasks at hand.

“Who's the asshole going to the Black Parade?”

Hunk turned his head to inspect the emo Lance was referring to. In the back corner of the class, there was a lanky boy in a jacket, and.. Was that a mullet? Jesus, Lance wasn't kidding. He had an earbud in one ear, and was absentmindedly doodling on his assignment. 

Hunk turned back around and shrugged. “I don't know, he doesn't look familiar.”

“You're kidding right?” Shay leaned forward, swinging her already precarious looking hoop earrings. “That's Keith. He's been in our class for a year now?”

Lance blinked. “What? I've never seen him before!”

“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Hunk added.

Shay laughed as Amy walked over. “You guys seriously don't remember Keith? We had a group project together! Remember ‘the Egyptians are loose’?”

Amy chuckled, pushing her black curls away from her sweaty face. “Oh god, not that again!”

Amy and Shay began chatting together in the way best friends do, and Hunk and Lance were left staring at the MCR reject in the corner.

“How come we don't remember him?” Hunk asked nervously.

Lance scoffed. “If we don't remember him, he obviously isn't worth our time. C’mon, I don't want to have to pull an all-nighter again.”

As he and Hunk got back to work, Lance tried to ignore the consistent itch in the back of his mind. It doesn't matter, he told himself. It's nothing.

And through the whole period of sweating, laughing, and getting scolded by Ms. Reiner, Keith kept a close watch on the two idiots in front of him.


	2. All I Need Is To Be Struck By Your Electric Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did I mention that I like to make my favorite characters suffer

A trio of teenagers stood outside a grungy looking cafe. The building was set in the corner, so small you could walk right by it, with a limp and decrepit sign reading ‘Grinder’s Cafe’ almost falling off the wall. 

Lance shifted nervously, running his hand through his hair. “This is sorta an odd place to meet,” he stated awkwardly, aware of his friends’ eyes on him.

Pidge snorted, punching his shoulder. “Backing out now, nerd?”

Lance rubbed his shoulder and whined. “As if,” he scoffed, playing off his nerves in a weak attempt of bravado. “Who’re you calling nerd, nerd?”

“Good one, Lance.” Hunk said in a tone he hoped was supportive. Pidge rolled their eyes, and shoved Lance towards the door.

“Get in there, and get some pussy,” they said, laughing at the mortified expression Lance made. Flipping Pidge the bird (heh, get it?) Lance walked in through the door.

Hunk chuckled, and started walking off, but Pidge stopped him.

Raising his eyebrow, Hunk looked down at the smaller of the duo. Pidge bit their lip.

“I don't trust her.”

“Nyma?” Hunk asked, incredulous. “Why not?”

Pidge shifted uncomfortably. “Just… Let's wait for Lance.”

Hunk had rarely seen them so serious. He nodded, feeling apprehension trickle down his back. They'd wait for Lance.

____________________________________________________________________________

The door hit a bell when Lance walked in, making his entrance much less smooth than he'd hoped. He looked around in bewilderment at the coffe shop before him.

The tables and chairs were covered with tarp, the windows boarded up, and a good inch of dust covering every surface it could find. The counter had numerous boxes stacked on it, furthering the cluttered aesthetic of the room. The air had a heavy presence in it, the kind you sense when people are arguing. 

Walking through slowly, Lance called out for Nyma. “Nyma? You here?”

When no one answered, he began to feel a prickle on the small of his back. The feeling only grew, and Lance unconsciously began to curl in on himself, as if a child taking comfort in blankets that would protect them from monsters.

A small movement in the corner of his eye made him flinch, and then feel stupid when he realized it was just Nyma coming in. She must've been in the back room, Lance mused.

“Nyma, hey!” Lance put on his best smile, trying to shake off his nervousness. “Um, this is kinda…”

He paused when he saw her face. Her eyes were downcast, lips pursed, a distinct… yellow hue surrounding her? Lance shrugged off the last part.

“Hey, are you okay?” He stepped closer, reaching out, then stopped, his blood freezing.

Behind her came three burly men, decked out in what looked like leather armor, and… Ears? Sure enough, the three men (were they even human?) had purple, furry skin, and large, catlike ears. The largest of the three had a mechanical eye and arm.

Lance stumbled back. “Nyma?! Wh-what's going on?”

The largest of the three strode forward, pushing Lance back further. “Sorry, Lance,” Nyma said, “it's nothing personal.”

With his heart pounding in his head, and his stomach in his throat, Lance hit his back against the wall. Any words he tried to speak were strangled, his knees were shaking. The purple man gave him a look of disgust, then pulled something from his sheath. It looked like a sonic screwdriver, Lance thought dazedly. Except it was bronze, and the edges were laced with electricity. Without warning, the man drew back, and punched it forward, connecting the edge to Lance’s stomach. Lance’s entire body curled inwards as he let out an earsplitting shriek that could only have come from the likes of a wounded animal. His vision flashed white as he choked on his agony before collapsing to the floor in a limp heap.

___________________________________________________________________________

Pidge and Hunk froze when they heard the cry. It was too raw, too animalistic to have been a joke. Hunk felt his heart miss a beat as Pidge felt the familiar iron grasp of anxiety take hold. Hunk whipped his head around, and started towards the door, Pidge close behind.

Hunk opened the door with such force it rattled against its frame. Pidge froze in place, as Hunk simply stared at the scene before them in growing rage.

The room itself was dusty, cramped, and altogether not a place for a date. Nyma stood farthest away from the door, wearing a stoic face, but it was easy to see the regret she held. Three enormous men whipped their heads around, the largest one with an eye of steel (literally). By their feet, a familiar figure was crumpled.

Pidge’s breath got short and their breathing quickened. That wasn't Lance… Right? No it couldn't be. He was an idiot, but he'd never get hurt like that. He'd never be so quiet, so still, so not-Lance…No no no nonononONONONONONO-

Hunk leapt forward with a furious roar, shoving down a hyperventilating Pidge. He moved with such simplicity and force that he caught the trio by surprise. Body-slamming the first with a sickening thud, he picked up a chair and smashed it over the largest one. The other two grabbed him immediately, forcing him to the ground.

The largest one stood up with a painful groan, then looked down at Hunk and laughed. Hunk struggled furiously, only succeeding in getting his face shoved into the rough wooden floor. Pidge’s breathing sped up even further, hot tears they didn't know were there rolling down their cheeks. They stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move.

The leader of the three observed them with a scornful eye. “Gods, I came here for one piece of shit and I got three. Lucky me.”

One of the men holding Hunk down chuckled nervously. “Y-yeah. But, um, Commander Sendak, should we bring them too? A little Mist should cover it up.”

Sendak turned to Pidge, then shook his head. “We might as well kill them. Look at this one, not even worth sparing.”

Pidge stared at him with glossy eyes, trying to untie their bonds of fear. Sendak approached them with a hunter’s gait, smooth yet rough. He looked down at them with a look of disgust, and raised his metal arm, energy racing along the edges. Pidge didn't even have the strength to close their eyes. They never had strength to do anything. And now Hunk was going to die because they were too fucking weak. Pidge let go of any tension in their body, fully accepting their defeat, their loss, their undeniable fragility.

As Sendak brought his arm down, a flash of red interrupted the scene. Keith emerged, using the situation to his advantage, cutting down with a sword on the metal arm. A flash of energy blinded the room, and Keith kicked Sendak square in the chest.

Sendak stumbled backwards, clutching his metal stub. The two men on Hunk leapt up, grabbing their weapons from their belts and joining the fray with fierce battle cries.

Keith weaved his way through their slices and shots as gracefully as a dancer, and whipped back around to stab the first. Pidge let out an audible gasp as the blade sliced through his skin as easily as through clay. Keith ripped the sword out just in time to parry a thrust from the second. Behind him, the wounded solider exploded into dust, thickening the air with the scent of death, and blinding the secon temporarily. Keith took the chance, and beheaded the second in a swift slice.

As the second exploded, Keith looked around for Sendak. Where was he? He was just-

“Don't move, or you friend dies,”

Keith froze. Slowly turning his head, he found Sendak holding a bronze knife to Lance’s throat. With only one arm, Lance was propped unsteadily on his side, still out cold.

Keith raised his hands in surrender, glancing around. Where had Hunk gone?

“Drop your weapon,” Sendak snarled. Keith carefully placed his sword on the floor, keeping an eye on Sendak.

Sendak darted his eyes around, assessing the situation. Keith tried to read his face, but he remained impassive.

“What do you need him for?”

Sendak blinked at the question, but remained silent.

“You need him for something, don't you?” Keith took Sendak’s silence as a yes. “That's why you haven't killed him yet. That's why you won't.”

Sendak grinned suddenly. “I can't kill him, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt him.” Keith started when Sendak took the knife and plunged in into Lance’s stomach. Lance’s eyes whipped open and he let out a strangled cry. Pidge and Keith both froze, but Hunk leapt out from behind Sendak, stabbing him with one of his men’s knives.

Sendak exploded without another word, and Hunk fell to his knees, sobbing. Keith shook himself out of his stupor, and ran over to the two. Pidge sunk to the floor, covering their face with their hands.

Keith had to physically pull Hunk off Lance. Hunk sat back when he did, dropping the knife. Keith pulled a bag out of his jacket.

“You have gummy bears,” Hunk muttered, still crying softly. Keith decided not to correct him, and examined his patient.

The knife wound itself was clean, no ragged edges, and bleeding heavily. The surrounding flesh was burned from the electric shock. It wasn't lethal, but if they handled it wrong, it could be. 

“Hunk,” Hunk looked up at the call. “Prop him up for me.”

Hunk obeyed, trying to ignore the groans Lance made when he did. He watched as Keith took out a rag and pressed it up against the wound. The blood quickly bled through, but Keith either didn't notice or didn't care. He removed one hand and fumbled with the ziploc bag with bloody hands. When he finally opened it, he grabbed a piece of candy and shoved it into Lance’s mouth. Lance mumbled in protest, but Keith held his mouth shut until he swallowed.

Hunk watched with detached interest. Normally, he and Pidge would be raving about the magic gummy bears, but he was too upset to do so.

The bleeding slowed to a steady trickle, but the cut didn't close. Keith stood up and sighed.

“We need to move.”

Hunk and Pidge looked at him. “What?” Pidge croaked.

“It isn't safe here, especially now. We need to get to a safe place.”

There was a small silence before Pidge exploded.

“Excuse me?! We need to go to the police! Lance just got fucking stabbed! You just killed people! Why the FUCK are you being so calm?!”

Keith looked startled by the outburst. Pidge had picked themself off the floor and was practically in Keith's face. Their face was red from crying, their breathing still not recovered from the anxiety attack, but they had a frightening glow to their eyes.

“Pidge, listen-”

“Don't you ‘Pidge listen’ me! We deserve to know what's going on, we deserve to have justice, and you can't take that away from us!”

They were shouting now, their words echoing in the abandoned building. Keith looked frustrated, but kept his cool.

“Pidge, listen to me. What you've just seen can't be seen by the police. Literally. Those people you just saw, they weren't human. They were Galra, monsters. The Mist prevents normal humans from seeing them. Even if you did tell the police, they couldn't do anything. There's only one place for people who see them, and it's where I need to take you. I get that this is crazy, but I'm the only chance you have.”

Pidge backed down, digesting the new information. Hunk, however, was thinking short term.

“Okay.”

Both Pidge and Keith turned around, astounded at the abrupt decision.

“If it's a place that's safe from them, I'm in.”

Pidge stared at him, but Keith didn't seem as surprised. He had an almost envious look on his face.

“Alright. Hunk, you carry Lance, both of you, follow me.”

Keith headed toward the door. Hunk lifted Lance as gently as he could, but Pidge was still suspicious.

“Where are we going?” They asked.

“Camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops


	3. On the Highway to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i can't write dialogue

Keith was having a shitty day.

He was always reluctant to be assigned to a new camper. He knew that he wasn't the best at talking to people, much less calming them down in a tense situation, but Shiro had insisted.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, too. Find the kid, protect them, get them away safely. Of course two others had shown up. Just Keith's luck. No wonder there had been so many Galra, even Sendak had shown up. These kids better be worth the trouble.

“Keith?” Hunk interrupted his monologue with a soft but insistent voice. Keith shook himself out of his daze, and turned around. “What… Are we doing?”

They were outside of the shop, waiting for what appeared to be nothing. Lance lay limp in Hunk’s arms, reminding Keith of the situation. 

“We're catching a cab,” Keith said shortly, pulling out a golden coin. Flipping it into the street, he shouted, “Stêthi, Ô hárma diabolês!”

Hunk and Pidge both blinked in surprise at the unexpected Latin. The words sounded vaguely familiar, almost like hearing an old friend’s voice. They watched, dumbstruck, as the coin sank into the road as easily as water into sand.

The world was silent for a moment, and then it shifted. The asphalt where the coin sank turned pitch-black, bubbling like soup. The bubbles rose higher, almost knee-height, when another shape entered the fray. From the rising darkness came something metal, but not. It was clearly a cab, but seemed to float and spread constantly, as if made of smoke.

Keith clambered into the vehicle with a comfortable grace, then gestured for the others to follow. Pidge went first, cramming their small frame into the middle seat. Hunk lay Lance down on the other’s laps, then shuffled in himself.

The inside was stuffed full of odd items, from hair ties to lighters, from pencils to knives. The teenagers had to move cautiously around the cluttered mess.

The woman in the front seat turned around, ignoring the grunts she caused the other two who sat next to her.

“Red Lion! Long time no see!”

Hunk and Pidge recoiled at her sunken, wrinkly face. It wouldn't have been half bad, if she had two eyes. The one that she had scanned them with a scrutinizing glare, until she seemed satisfied.

“I told you not to call me that,” Keith grumbled, all too at ease for the other passengers.

The woman cackled, revealing a mouth of gums and nothing else. “Ah, don't be like that. Whore these pretty young things?” 

“They're not yours, that's who,” Keith snapped. The woman leaned back and cackled.

“Oh, Red, don't be like that. New recruits, huh?” Her eye lingered a little too long for comfort on the three newcomers. “Oh.”

“What?” 

She blinked her good eye. “Oh, nothing. So, where to today, boyo?”

“You know where, Wasp.” 

She tutted, a strange noise in her mangled mouth. “Hey now, don't be like that.”

“Can we go already? You know you can't flirt with him,” one of the other women asked loudly. The third smacked her on the head,

“This is a valued customer! Don't be rude!” The third shrieked.

“Don't tell me what to do, Temptest!”

The two began bickering with piercing vigor. Wasp shrugged, and showed a gummy grin. “Don't worry ab-”

Her words were cut short as the second woman's arm caught her on the side of her head, knocking out her one eye with a sick pop.

Pidge shrieked as it landed on their lap, jumping enough to jostle Lance and elbow Keith.

“Jesus, Katie! Don't be such a wimp!” Keith yelled, rubbing his side. Grabbing the eye with a disturbingly nonchalant additude, he grabbed Wasp’s flailing hand and placed it firmly in it. Wasp stopped panicking, and quickly shoved the eye back into its rightful spot.

Lance mumbled something, and Hunk immediately repositioned him. Keith looked over as if about to help, but the cab jolted forward suddenly.

“JUST GO!” The second woman shrieked, pressing her food on the gas harder. Temptest smacked her, and Wasp frantically avoided crashing into a parked car.

“Anger!” Tempest yelled as the car cruised down the street. “That's it, give me the tooth!”

She grabbed Anger’s mouth, and Anger responded by spitting in her face.

“Tooth?” Pidge asked, trying to keep their mind off the eyeball incident.

“They have one tooth,” Keith said shortly, then moved to check Lance’s temperature with his hand. He frowned, and Pidge tried to distract themself from the situation.

“One tooth each?”

“No, one tooth total. Just one eye, too. They alternate. Last time I was here, Anger had both.” Keith said distractedly. Hunk noticed his distance immediately.

“What's wrong with Lance?” He said with apprehension.

“Besides getting electrocuted and stabbed? I think I gave him too much ambrosia.” The three were launched to the side as Wasp suddenly turned.

“Sorry about that! Make sure Blue doesn't burn up there, Red.” She shouted over the engine.

Keith froze. “Blue?”

Wasp flinched, then turned back to the road. Anger leaned over to speak, and the trio noticed she didn't have the tooth anymore.

“Don't worry about it, Red! You've got bigger things coming!”

Temptest shrieked, and covered her mouth. Keith leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing!” The three old crones shouted in unison. Keith looked even more curious and frustrated.

“Why are they calling you Red?” Hunk blurted out. Keith turned to glare at him, but Temptest interrupted.

“Yellow pays attention, I like that.” 

Anger grabbed her by the hair, shouting in anger. Wasp started arguing as well, filling the cab with sounds of discourse as they continued driving. The three teenagers sat back, unable to separate the trio of bickering women. Keith had an interesting expression on, torn between pondering and worrying. Pidge and Hunk tried to make small talk as the ride droned on.

When the cab finally stopped, the kids were all to happy to get out. The cab had stopped at a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley. Keith barely thanked the women as they exited, and the cab drove away in a huffy manner.

“Well, this is just fucking fantastic, but why are we here?” Pidge said irritably. Keith sighed, and started walking.

“Follow me,” was all he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism, comments, and kudos are always welcome!


	4. Follow the Yellow Brick Road

“This is a bad idea.”

Hunk turned to the smaller of the trio. Their eyes were downcast, and their breathing shallow.

“How so?” He asked, trying to keep them from having another anxiety attack.

“We just met him,” Pidge muttered, fidgeting with their hands. “We can't trust him.”

Shifting Lance in his arms, Hunk patted their head. “We can trust him more than those cats. They're the ones who tried to kill us, and he's the one who got us out.”

Pidge’s stride slowed. “Yeah,” they signed, “I guess you're right. I just don't get how you can be so calm.”

Hunk laughed, slowing down with them. Keith kept a fast pace, leaving them behind. “I'm really fucking freaked out, I'm just trying to put that energy in a more productive place.”

Their glasses shone in the setting sun’s haze. “I wish I could do that.”

Before Hunk could reassure them, an unfamiliar voice cut through the air.

“Keith, you're back!”

Hunk and Pidge both froze at the outburst, but Keith relaxed visibly. A tall man strode up to them with the confidence of a good friend. He wore a white tank top that showed off his muscular and scarred arms and a smile. He had an undercut with a shock of white hair sprouting from the front, and a long, old scar across his nose.

Keith smiled, an awkward but sincere expression. “Hey, Shiro.”

Shiro glanced towards the trio behind Keith. “Who’re these guys? I thought you were only looking for one.”

“These two showed up, as well,” Keith said simply. Shiro seemed to understand the vague statement, nodding in acknoledgement. Then he noticed Lance.

Moving quickly, he was by Hunk’s side in a flash, taking Lance into his arms. “Keith, what happened?” He asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Keith shifted uncomfortably. “The Galra were there.”

“Dammit,” Shiro said, then looked mortified for his language. “Sorry. Where is he hurt?”

“Under his ribs, left side.” Shiro shifted him so as not to injure him further, then looked at the other two.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I? I'm Shiro, I'm a leader here at camp.”

“Camp?” Pidge asked nervously.

Shiro sighed, and shot Keith a look. “You haven't told them yet?”

“There wasn't exactly time,” Keith snapped angrily, but he looked ashamed.

“Tell us what?” Hunk asked, growing impatient.

Shiro and Keith looked uncomfortable. “We’ll explain at camp,” Shiro said, and began walking towards the cliff. Keith did the same.

“What-” Pidge’s words were cut short as Shiro stepped off the cliff. Letting out a strangled yelp, they ran to the cliff edge, Hunk close behind.

“Holy shit.” they muttered, peering over the edge.

Shiro was walking on air, literally. He walked down a shimmering path of nothingness that spiraled down to a river and cabins surrounding it. 

“He's such a show-off,” Keith muttered. The two newcomers snapped their heads towards him. He shrugged. “We got a favor from Boreas a while back.”

“Like… The god?” Hunk asked incredulously. Keith didn't answer, instead, he stepped onto the air. Hunk and Pidge gasped as his feet revealed a shimmering reflection on the not-air.

“It's easy,” he said, trying to comfort them. “Just follow my footsteps.”

He took a few steps forward, and looked back. “Come on,” he said, sounding exasperated. “We need to get your friend to the infirmary.”

At that remark, Hunk lost any doubt he held before. Stepping cautiously onto the shimmering air, he took a few steps forwards, then gestured for Pidge to follow.

“Do… Do I really have to go on the fucking rainbow road to get down there?!” Pidge stuttered, earning a smirk from Keith. Pidge grunted at the affirmation, and walked tentatively down the ramp.

They walked for five minutes at the most, a surprisingly short time to walk to the bottom of a canyon. Once at the bottom, the trio began walking down a poorly paved road towards a collection of buildings. The structures had a vaguely Grecian aura to them, their white columns arching gracefully toward the sky.

The main road split off at a fork, the leftmost leading to the river, the right path spiraling towards what looked to be cabins, and the center leading to a silver hall. Keith headed down the center path without so much of a hesitation. Pidge and Hunk followed awkwardly.

As they walked through the strange settlement, Hunk began noticing people who were following them. They looked to be a diverse group, all somewhere between early teens and early twenties. They all spoke with hushed whispers to one another, not even trying to be subtle. Hunk hunched his shoulders and tried to make himself smaller, while Pidge stood up straighter.

Keith didn't bother to knock as he opened the doors to the silver palace. He walked through with echoing steps of confidence.

A woman with dark skin and long silver hair turned around. “Keith!” She exclaimed, walking briskly over. A man with a bouncy energy and ginger hair followed close behind.

“Red! You've returned!” The man said exuberantly, practically jumping on the spot. “I see you've brought some friends! How lovely!” Grabbing Hunk’s hand and shaking it energetically, his enthusiasm making Hunk smile. 

“I'm Coran! This is Allura! Oh, welcome, welcome!”

“Keith,” Allura interjected as Coran gave Pidge an equally delightful introduction. “Where's Lance?”

Keith tilted his head in a catlike manner. “Lance?”

Allura sighed, crossing her arms. “The demigod you were assigned?”

Keith's face lit up as he understood. “Oh! He's in the infirmary.”

“What?!” Allura exclaimed. “What happened?!”

“The Galra were there. They got to him before I did.” Keith said, sounding sheepish.

Before Allura could respond, Pidge interjected. “Hold on. Who-what are the Galra? Why did you call Lance a demigod? Where the hell are we?”

Allura’s gaze pierced through Keith. “You didn't tell them?”

Keith shifted awkwardly. “I was just getting to it…”

Allura sighed, then focused her attention on the bewildered duo. “Um… You might want to sit down for this.”

“Sit down for what?” Pidge asked angrily.

“The story of Camp Altea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this goes out to the people who actually read this. I'm sorry I haven't been uploading recently. I've just started high school, which is stressful enough by itself, but I've also been given the news that my dad has terminal cancer. He probably won't see me go to college. My anxiety has been off the charts, and I'm struggling with depression and school work, so I might not upload that often. Don't worry, I'm still working on it, I just need to take care of myself a little bit. Thank you for understanding, please enjoy this chapter, and as always, comments and kudos ads always welcome.


	5. To Dust or to Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yo, this is just background, the real stuff begins next chapter. You can skip this if u want, but it might get a lil confusing if u do

Before the era of humans, there was another race. The Titans, borne from Mother Gaea and Uranus. These creatures were a mile high, stronger than storms, and faster than the wildest horses. 

The humans were mere tools to these deities, and worth no more than a pebble. The Titan siblings lived in peace for millennia, until Uranus grew jealous.

Uranus was the sky, the very heavens that we see above us today. He had no children in his domain, no one to call his own. His wife, Gaea, was plentiful with joyous souls and bodies. Uranus grew increasingly inconsolable, and his dark thoughts formed the stars into warriors.

As he grew his army of void, Gaea noticed his treachery, and she too, built up her own force. Allied with her children, she led the world into battle against the sky.

Her youngest son, Kronus, was destined to defeat Uranus. Knowing this, she fashioned him a sickle of her own skin and bone. Giving it to him, she said, “Take this, my son. Strike your father down, as your children will do you.” 

Taking the sickle, Kronus vowed to defeat his unjust father, even through a growing haze of suspicion.

The battle lasted too long to have been recorded. Stars fell from the sky and the earth was unturned as the Titans raged against the heavens. Finally, on the twelfth day, Kronus struck Uranus down with the sickle of skin and bone.

The above and below torn asunder, the a Titans returned home victorious.

A Golden Age blossomed from the wreckage, and the a Titans lived in peace.

Kronus had been living in fear of his children to come. His mother had prophecied his end, and he was not willing to let it happen. When his first son was born, he swallowed it in one fell swoop.

And so he swallowed four more children. His wife, Rhea, could not take it any longer. When the sixth child was born, she gave Kronus a rock swaddled in blankets to swallow instead.

And so, the sixth child's Zeus, was brought up outside of his father’s reach. When he had grown, he gave his father an emetic. Kronus disgorged Zeus’s two brothers and three sisters as well as the stone. The six siblings ran off to prepare for the war to come.

And so the war came, the six gods against the twelve Titans. Unbeknownst to most, there was another Titan fighting alongside the gods.

The Titan was named Isorropia. They gained the trust of the gods swiftly, and their children, a pair of twins, followed suit.

And so the battle raged, the Titans against the gods. Once more, Gaea endured the war, and once more, the lesser were victorious. The Titans were cast to Tartarus, and the gods built a palace among the mountains. The thirteenth Titan had disappeared, their children the only thing left.

The twins lived in unease among the gods. The female of the two was more trusting, but the male was far more suspicious.

It came to the attention of the female that the gods had sired quite a few children. Demigods, she named them. Struck with an idea, she turned to her brother and said,

“Brother, these demigods have nowhere to go. They are too holy to live with the humans, and the monsters hunt them. Why don't we build a sanctuary?”

The brother reluctantly agreed, and they built the first of many camps.

Millennia passed, and the brother had only gotten more detached. The sister was far too engrossed in the teaching of the demigods to notice his seclusion.

One starry night, the sister was fast asleep. The brother approached her, a sickle in his hand.

“I'm sorry, Sister.”

As he brought down the sickle, she twisted in her sleep. The weapon struck her straight in the womb, and she let out a cry of agony that woke up the entire camp. The brother stumbled back, scare of what he had done. As she opened her hazey eyes, he ran into the night.

The sister recovered within a week, but her heart remained scarred. She had no children to call her own besides the demigods. She was inconsolable for one hundred years, and only then did she have the strength to look at the situation around her.

The demigod camp was slowly being hacked apart by soldiers bearing skin and ears akin to her twin. Raising herself out of bed, she donned her armor, and stepped outside.

Commanding her soldiers- no - her children as easily as one hundred years ago, she rallied her forces. Calling them together, she fought back the purple-eared enemies. 

And she has been doing so for eons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism, comments, and kudos are always welcome!


	6. Take Me Down to the Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i need to do spanish and physics homework but this seemed more important

Lance was at the beach.

Not just any beach. No, he was standing amidst the sands of a Floridian beach, amidst his home, amidst his childhood.

The day wasn't a particularly pleasant one. There was a nip in the air that made him draw in his jacket. Not too far off, he could see a storm on the horizon. The waves were choppy, the sand cold to his bare feet. He had seen better days.

Looking around, he spotted a man by the shore. That was weird, it was pretty shit weather to be so close to the water. There was no one else around. Lance found himself walking towards the stranger.

Sitting down next to the man, Lance looked up and took in his features. He had tanned skin with wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He was obviously a smiler, although not at the moment. He was wearing a loose Hawaiin shirt and cargo shorts, but no shoes. Huh. Lance wondered vaguely where his shoes had gone.

The man looked down, and Lance was taken aback by his eyes. He had expected them to be a dark brown, but they were an ocean blue. And by ocean blue, it really was ocean like. They seemed to shift and spin to the turmoil of the waves.

“Long time no see,” the man said casually, and Lance snapped his jaw closed. 

“I'm glad you got there safe,” the man continued, shifting his gaze back to the ocean. “I was a little worried when the Galra showed up.”

“A little?” Lance burst. “I got stabbed! And electrocuted!”

The man shrugged. “You'll go through worse. Besides, you're fine now.”

There was a heavy silence after that. Call him crazy, but Lance wasn't willing to speak to the man who had just promised him that he would suffer. 

The man sighed, and spun his body towards Lance. “I can't see my home from here.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “I can't either.”

“Listen, Lance.” The man suddenly sounded worried. “You're going to have to make some tough choices. You can't save everyone. You might not see your family again. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry.”

Lance blinked away the sudden tears in his eyes, then looked up just in time to see the man dissipate into mist.

Sighing, Lance stretched out his legs on the cool sand. A breeze tousled his hair and chilled his body. A peculiar warmth started spreading from his core. He ignored it at first, then the warmth grew to be hot, the scalding. Yelping, he clutched at his stomach only to draw away a bloody hand.

Oh, right. He'd forgotten about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hohoho, things are getting plotsy. Constructive criticism, comments, and kudos are always welcome!


End file.
